A Reawaken Beast
by goodbye caroline
Summary: Count Olaf’s desire to destroy the Baudelaires leads him to the ultimate orphan extermination plan. But will his obsession with the eldest Baudeliare lead him to rethink his entire operation. Postseries fic, a little bit of twisted Violaf.


_Title: **A Reawaken Beast**  
  
Author: Virginia Willow  
  
Rating: R for sexual situations and violence  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own ASoUE in anyway what so ever. Danny Handler and his Lemony Snicket can have it all. They make the playground, I play in it.  
  
Summery: Count Olaf's desire to destroy the Baudelaires leads him to the ultimate orphan extermination plan. But will his obsession with the eldest Baudeliare lead him to rethink his entire operation. Post-series fic, a little bit of twisted Violaf. Enjoy._

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She sat alone, as usual, on the bench out on her "porch" watching the city. Her porch was merely a small balcony on the fifteenth floor of a somewhat nice apartment complex. The slight and cool November breeze whipped through her long, silky black hair. Too lazy to put it up in a hair tie, she tucked it behind her ears. She had long forgotten her trademark hair ribbon, letting it go forever in return for a life saving disguise.  
  
Her siblings were now safe from harm. Sunny, currently attending an all girls school in Ontario, Canada. Klaus was currently studying abroad in Florence, Italy. Violet remained at home, in the city that had betrayed the Baudeliare family on more than one occasion. She didn't know why exactly she stayed, but something within her knew that she had to stay. She was still needed in the world.  
  
Yes, someone certainly still needed her. He was crouched below her deck suspended only by a thin rope. He still needed her. Prison would not hold him in; a restraining order would not keep him away. He was not finished with her; he was not finished with the Baudelaires. It was not for the money anymore; it was all gone anyway. His new goal was finishing them once and for all, and he would not stop until all of the Baudelaires were dead.  
  
He started with Violet, his particularly favorite orphan of the bunch. She was alluring, cunning, brilliant, and beautiful. He would certainly have his fun with her. He figured he could make her suffer before killing her. "Yes, suffer, that is what they deserve." He thought to himself.  
  
The cold breeze and the constant hum of the fan inside had lulled her into sleepiness. She quietly crept back into her bedroom.  
  
"Yes, return to those silly little dreams my dear. Soon you will be mine, and all the dreams in the world will never make you happy again..." He muttered to himself. As soon as he saw the small lamp light turn off he carefully climbed up to the balcony. Even after eleven years he still had the agility of a young recruit. He smiled an evil smile as he turned and saw her sleeping form in the bed just five feet and one door away. He silently stalked into the dark room, with the aide of the moonlight; he successfully managed not to wake her up...yet.  
  
He grabbed a chair and set it at the foot of her bed. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. While watching he noticed something quite disturbing, she had grown up quite a bit. She was no longer the tall and awkward teenager she used to be. Violet Baudeliare was now a dark and lovely creature of surpassing beauty. His breathing froze as he looked at her sleeping. Her hair was now long, but still had the typical Baudeliare look to it, light and manageable with flair. It was simply the only way to describe her.  
  
Old but renewed. She was old; she came from an old family with old beliefs and traditions. Of course, she still kept to some traditions. But she was also new in the attitude in which she kept the old traditions. The old only brought turmoil to her family; with old and new combined maybe the Baudeliare luck could be restored.  
  
He laughed at the prospect of the old "Baudeliare Luck". It took just a small, raspy chuckle to wake the "sleeping new beauty" in the bed in front of him.  
  
She stirred at first, opening her eyes and surveying the room. They widening in alarm when they caught sight of two shining eyes that were all to familiar sitting at the foot of her bed. Her heart nearly stopped as she shot up from the bed. It was he, the man who had haunted her nightmares for more than a decade. It was Count Olaf, evil as always with the shining eyes that seem to only say doom.  
  
She could do nothing at the moment but scream, alert anyone who could be passing or listening.  
  
With the reflexes of a cat, he quickly pounced on top of the bed and crawled over to her, stopping the scream with his hand in front of her mouth. A smirk reached his lips as he saw her quivering form look up at him in fear. He held her down with his legs, so that she would be unable to get away. He had her trapped...  
  
She was trapped. Now, at the mercy of her long time enemy, "No." She thought, it didn't have to be like this. There was a handgun in the nightstand drawer next to the bed. If she could only get at it... She felt a cold, midnight breeze sweep through the small bedroom like a vicious broom. A shiver went down her spine and her whole body was shaking underneath the hold of Count Olaf. She realized only now what she was wearing. "Oh, no."  
  
"Oh yes." He thought as he looked at the frightened beauty below him. She was clad in, what ladies of this age, called "Pajamas". In reality, what she was wearing was something she had recently bought for herself at Victoria's Secret. It was a lace-trimmed satin nightdress. Short, sexy, and silky. It was a deep purple with lavender lace. He felt something stiffen between his legs, he harshly ignored it and tried to focus on killing her. As she tried to wriggle free from his grip, it was getting harder and harder to ignore...perhaps he didn't have to kill her yet.  
  
He released his hand from her mouth and grabbed her hands, his long slender fingers griped tightly around her thin wrists. With the other hand he reached around to his back pocket and pulled out the small bit of rope that he was hanging from just minutes earlier and tied her hands together. She struggled even more to free herself.  
  
"Get off of me!" She screamed as she thrust upwards and struggled to get away. The result of the harsh movement made him loose his balance and he lost the pressure of his legs holding down her body. At the same time, he came crashing down on top of her, his groin landing right on her lap.  
  
"STOP THAT!" he yelled, then caught sight of her frightened face. She had now realized the position that she was in. He smirked and whispered softly, "Now, Violet my dear...you should be lucky."  
  
"Why is that?" she spat.  
  
"Heh, heh, lucky that I am such a generous man," She nearly snorted, "I came here tonight with every intention of destroying you. And now...well, I've seen that you are not the annoying teenager you used to be, and decided to destroy you in another quite different way my pet." She started to quiver as he ran his cold bony finger down the length of her cheekbone.  
  
"Who knows," He said, "It could be enjoyable on both our parts, that is if you cooperate. Then I will kill you later as opposed to now."  
  
The gears in her head were turning. She would try to play along, surprised, Count Olaf would let his guard down, and she would strike...  
  
She tried with all her will power to smile, "Alright Olaf my –sweet-, but it would be a whole lot easier if my hands weren't tied." She said. Violet hoped that her sugar coated false submission would be enough to free her.  
  
Confused at first, Olaf smiled. In fact her statement aroused him even further, she had actually agreed. He was shocked; he expected more of a fight. At least now he could have his long awaited fun with her. He untied her and she lay still underneath him. He gazed down at her, her arms were outstretched and she was just lying there, waiting. She was so beautiful. He was so overcome with lust that he failed to notice that her left arm was now draping over the side of the bed grasping hold of a rather large volume of The Physics Encyclopedia.  
  
He leaned in real close and whispered into her ear, "My dear...I do believe I have finally won this eleven year game—"  
  
He was cut off by the sound of book smacking skull. She had trust with all her strength to hurl the book at Count Olaf's face. Apparently it had worked. He was now half off the bed, unconscious with a small droplet of blood dripping down his cheek. She kicked him off the bed and propped him up on a chair and tied him up. She next went to the phone and dialed the first person that would be able to arrive quickly.  
  
"Hello? Lemony?" She spoke.  
  
"Yes? Violet?" He replied.  
  
"I-I...he, he came and, he, he..." Her voice was stuttering and her body was shaking.  
  
"What's the matter? What happened?" he asked a little worried.  
  
"C-Count Olaf..." That was all she had to say.  
  
"Violet, stay were you are, I'll be right over." He hung up and drove the fastest he had ever drove over to her apartment complex.  
  
Violet donned a rope and went to retrieve her handgun. It was fully loaded, she never thought she'd need it, but always kept it around just in case. She just stood in front of him tied to the chair. Waiting for him to wake up, waiting to...well she hoped it didn't come to that. She was jolted back from her thoughts by a loud panicky knock on the door. She opened it and in stepped her family friend and former stalker, Lemony Snicket.  
  
"Wha-What did you do?" he gasped pointing to the Count tied unconscious to the kitchen chair.  
  
"He came in here, tried to kill me, then he didn't and-and-and then he..." She said as tears started to well up in her eyes. He took her in his arms and comforted her.  
  
"Shhh...It's ok now. He'll never bother you again, now."  
  
A hash and raspy voice replied out of the shadows, "L! How lovely of you to join us!"  
  
"What are you doing here Olaf?" He asked harshly.  
  
"FINISHING WHAT I STARTED! My dear old friend, you would know what I mean. Seems you never knew how to finish things. I do however, know how to finish what I've started. Just like I finished dear old Beatrice!" He started laughing at the sight of Lemony's enraged expression.  
  
"WHY YOU—I should have killed you when I had the chance."  
  
He was still smiling that cynical smile of his, "Well, you didn't! You're pathetic! You think that protecting her children will make her come back!? She left you, Lem. Get over it. She moved on, and she died. That's life, and death. HAHAHA"  
  
"You're insane!" Violet yelled to him.  
  
"SHUT UP!" he reached over to Violet and grabbed the gun and pointed it at the crazy Count Olaf. This only caused him to get more hysterical.  
  
"Oh, L, going to shoot me now are you? Well, go ahead, pull that trigger and blow my fucking brains away."  
  
Lemony was seriously tempted to kill him once and for all. But something in him told him not to, some long forgotten spirit told him not to kill the insane man now sitting in front of him.  
  
"No...She wouldn't have wanted it to end this way."  
  
Olaf sighed, "Ah, noble Lemony. Always doing the –right- thing. How deliciously sickening."  
  
He ignored him and turned to Violet, instructing her to call the police. While the two had their backs turned Olaf wriggled himself free from the bindings and grabbed the knife lying on the kitchen counter. He grabbed Violet's arm and pulled her towards him, holding the knife to her throat.  
  
"Move and she dies, shoot and we both die. Either way she dies so you best to what I say!"  
  
This time, Violet was ready. She slammed her foot down on his and he screeched in pain. She then broke free from his grip and kneed him in the stomach. She tried to run away, but Olaf caught her with the knife and sliced at her leg. She screamed and hopped over to Lemony's side in pain.  
  
"YOU STUPID BRAT ORPHAN!"  
  
BANG!  
  
He fired the gun. Olaf was now silent on the floor with a puddle of blood now growing under the corpse. Count Olaf was dead.  
  
"How's your leg?" he asked.  
  
"Its ok. I'll live. It's just a scratch," She started to panic, "Holy shit! There's a Daily Punctilio reporter in this building! They'll say you're a murderer."  
  
Still looking at the man he just shot, "Come on, let's go. Get your stuff; you're staying with me."  
  
"OK" she said, packing her things in a small bag. "What about the reporter, she probably heard that gunshot?"  
  
"Oh the Daily Punctilio will get their story. But at least this time they'll get it right." The both laughed and headed to the door and out to the car. Before getting in he said to her, "You know you look just like your mother?"  
  
She chuckled, "Yes, I'd like to hope I do. She was very beautiful."  
  
After she was in the car, he said to himself, "She certainly was..."  
  
**_Fin_**


End file.
